


One Night in Dresden

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: Tom Keen, International Badass of Mystery [1]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bedtime Snuggle Buddies, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:50:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Donald Ressler meets him, his name is Thomas, and there’s no reason to believe that he’s anything but what he appears to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night in Dresden

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Ночь в Дрездене](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337689) by [Heidel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heidel/pseuds/Heidel)



The first time Donald Ressler meets him, his name is Thomas. Don’s in Dresden as part of a sting operation, but they’re just getting set up and this time Don has plenty of time while they wait for their mark. Don has time to establish himself in their corner of the city. Time to explore and observe, to socialize, to lounge in chairs at the back of dimly lit bars and watch the crowd as he nurses a beer.

His name is Thomas, and it’s late, and there’s no reason to believe that he’s anything but what he appears to be: a young American, backpacking from city to city through Europe and discovering the world one beer at a time. He has the kind of sweet, bookish look that Don has always been secretly weak for, his blue eyes wide and warm under shaggy, light brown hair. Thomas is calm, and open, and unassuming, and it’s not like it’s unusual for Don to be approached by beautiful men, so he doesn’t treat Thomas any different than the others.

One beer turns to two, turns to Thomas’s fingers curled around his, turns to dark looks that are full of promise. The dim light in the bar means that Don can indulge, stroking one hand up Thomas’s thigh under the table as he nuzzles the other man’s jaw and breathes deep the scent of sunshine. 

They go back to the tiny room Thomas says he’s renting, which is clean and cozy despite the peeling paint on the walls and the places where the carpet is so threadbare that he can see floorboards underneath. It’s sparsely fitted with furnishings that are just as threadbare as the carpet. The little voice in the back of Don’s mind thinks briefly that it would make the perfect safe house, but it’s quickly silenced by the urgent press of Thomas’s lips on his own.

It feels good to give in here, far away from work, far away from prying eyes. Work wasn’t something you could ever completely forget, but sometimes other things, nicer things, could take the spotlight. Things like the perfectly toned biceps he feels as he strokes his hands up Thomas’s arms and under the sleeves of his tight fitting T-shirt. Things like the little mewling gasp he draws from Thomas’s lips when he bites at the line of muscle that joins shoulder to neck. 

They pull each other’s clothes off in a drunken haze of grasping hands and heated, messy kisses that are more teeth than tongue. The calmness he’d seen in the other man at the bar is gone now, and when he pushes Thomas down on the bed the blue eyes that look up at him are dark with lust. Thomas is feisty, answering Don’s passion with his own, without restraint, hips grinding up against him demandingly as he sucks on Don’s tongue, bites at his lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

It promises to be exactly the kind of sex that Don craves most when he goes to bed with men, and he feels a rich satisfaction almost rivaling his desire that he’d been able to read this beautiful man well enough to sense this hidden well of passion. He lets Thomas take the upper hand for a bit, lets himself be pinned to the mattress, tilting his head back to the lips and teeth that go to work on his neck and chest. Thomas bites a hot brand of pleasure into his collarbone, groaning low and throaty against his skin as he does. It hurts, and it will bruise tomorrow, and right now it’s making Don harder than he’s been in a very long time. He rakes his fingers down the broad expanse of Thomas’s back, cupping the firm globes of his ass and squeezing hard, pulling him closer as he ruts up against him.

Don shifts, struggling against Thomas’s strength and laughing breathlessly as he flips him and pins both wrists above his head with one hand. He leans in to draw his tongue up the length of Thomas’s neck, nipping at the hollow under his ear. “You wanna play king of the castle all night? Or are we going to fuck?”

Don’s not picky in bed, especially when bed is as good looking as the man underneath him right now. He’s not averse to the idea of riding Thomas’s cock hard and fast until he paints those tanned washboard abs with his come. Still, even with as feisty as Tom is, Don really wants to bury himself in that gorgeous tight ass.

Thomas looks up at him, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick lips that are bruised pink from their kisses. “I want you to wreck me,” he purrs, as if reading Don’s mind. He rolls his hips up against him slowly, pointedly, pulling against Don’s grip on his wrists, though not enough to try and break free. “Fuck me into the mattress, Don.”

When Don flips him onto his stomach, his lover gives an appreciative groan, grinding his ass up against the hard length of Don’s cock. “Mmmm, I love being manhandled by a big, strong stud.”

Don chuckles as he places an open mouthed kiss to the back of his neck, nuzzling along one broad shoulder. “I’ll manhandle you as much as you want, handsome.” He kisses hungrily down his spine and lets Thomas move enough to grope in the bedside drawer for lube and, thank God, condoms, because his wallet is halfway across the room in his pants and he really doesn’t want to stop kissing the perfection of Thomas’s bare skin. He rubs the pad of his thumb down the crease of Thomas’s ass and presses against the pink rose of his hole, smiling at the way it makes the other man shudder and moan.

“Do it,” Thomas gasps, squirming impatiently as Don pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. He lets the liquid drip between Thomas’s ass cheeks and blows lightly against his hole, smiling at the choked whimper it draws from his throat.

“Impatient?” He murmurs, pushing two fingers inside him none too gently.

“Of course. If I wanted conversation, I’d stayed at the - oh God, there! – bar,” he manages to get out, crying out as Don presses up against his prostate again. “Enough! Fuck me already!”

As tempting as it is to torture the man little while longer, Don’s already hard as nails, his cock slick with precome and aching for sensation. He tears a condom open with his teeth and rolls it on, slicking himself blindly as he noses is his face into Thomas’s hair and bites the nape of his neck. “Demanding little thing,” he murmurs, and pushes into the tight heat of his body with one hard thrust.

“God!” Thomas’s hands scrambled for purchase on the mattress as he arches underneath him, pushing back against Don’s cock. “Fuck, yes, just like that.…”

Sometimes Don likes to pretend at propriety, to cling to restraint just see his lover tried to ruffle him. He doesn’t even consider it now, answering Thomas’s plea with another hard thrust, setting a smooth, insistent rhythm that pulls a breathless cry from Thomas his mouth every time his hips slap against his ass. He can feel Thomas shudder around his cock, and knows that the angle he’s taken is just enough to brush against his lover’s prostate, a tease of sensation. From the way Tom gasps and squirms and shifts underneath him, Don knows that he’s driving him crazy before the man even speaks.

“Come on, harder, fuck…”

“I thought I was in charge here?” Don nips hard at the crook of his neck and rolls his hips into him just so, smiling as the other man cries out.

“Oh fuck, yes!”

Don does it again, pounding into him and smiling breathlessly as Thomas’s words break to shuddering cries, his body hot and tight and perfect around his cock. He feasts on the sight of the other man writhing underneath him, fingers white knuckled as they clench the mattress, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure. Then he slows again, chuckling softly at the whine of frustration that results. He nips at the other side of Thomas’s neck before the man can complain, and buries himself to the hilt, holding still despite the way that Thomas bucks up against him, trying to urge him to move. “I thought you wanted me to wreck you. You don’t have the patience for that, do you? You just want me to fuck you hard and fast and make you come on my cock, don’t you?”

Thomas squirms underneath him, as if trying to fuck himself on his cock as he ruts against the mattress. “I do, I do, just - fuck, please, your cock feels so good… oh fuck, please…”

He sounds wanton and desperate, and it’s enough to rend the last of Don’s self-control. He starts to move again, rough and fast, hips slamming into him. Thomas’s cries sound almost triumphant, interspersed with desperate gasps of “yes”. It feels too good, and Don fights to keep his thrusts even, biting down at his bottom lip as he tries to hold back. “You’re gonna come so hard for me,” he growls in Thomas’s ear, then and nips at his lobe. “You’re gonna come just from being fucked hard and fast just like you begged to…”

Thomas is coming even before he finishes speaking, bucking up against him as he clenches tight and shuddering around Don’s cock. It’s more than enough to pull him over the edge, and Don jerks into him roughly as orgasm overwhelms him, coming deep inside him.

He doesn’t try to think about much after sex. He’s too blissed out to care about things like conversation. Happily, Thomas doesn’t seem to be in any rush to kick him out, curling up against him as they relax back on the mattress and throwing an arm and one thigh across Don’s body possessively.

“So what’s a big, strong, All-American boy like you really doing here, huh?” Thomas murmurs as he nuzzles Don’s neck.

“Just seeing the world,” he replies, as he has to everyone who’s asked him that so far, sex or no sex. “Same as you.” Something about the question seems off, but he’s too tired to think about it now. Thomas is still asking him questions, but all he can manage is a hummed reply before falling asleep.

 

The second time he sees the man it’s so many years later that Don has almost forgotten him. Thomas is bleeding out, stretched out on a gurney and surrounded by paramedics that rush him to the back of the waiting ambulance. The second time he sees Thomas -Tom, now - he’s the husband of Don’s newest team member.

Don doesn’t say anything. What could he say? Hey, I fucked your husband in Dresden? But it’s not the embarrassment or awkwardness that really keeps him from speaking. It’s the situation. Thomas turning up here? It’s too strange, too… convenient.

Maybe he should keep a closer eye on Elizabeth Keen.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a pretty shallow reason to have to hot guys fucking. I still ship it. ;)


End file.
